Thursday, February 21, 2008

I Can Do Better Than This

After my interview today at the Providence Children's Museum I know that I can't work part-time for $10 an hour. I also know that I can't be an underling after accomplishing what I have accomplished in my museum career time. It was a milestone moment when I was able to say thanks but no thanks during the interview. I can do better than this. That was very hard, nonetheless. It is an awesome place with amazing potential. Ahhhh, well.

I did the right thing - needing to pave my path with functional money instead of good feelings. I am having a hell of a time trusting this survival mode. It doesn't seem to want to provide the food, clothing, shelter and transportation. But neither has following my heart. Hey World, see this picture? The person who painted this road probably still has a job. Whats up with that?

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Where Am I Now?

I know Mercury has been retrograde, and it's about to end. That explains all the little tiffs around the house and the bad word choices and the fact that I can't say what I mean without someone feeling hurt. For the past few days when I retreat to my room at the end of the day I get the big message "I just don't belong here." My heart is sad and beginning to ache. I am definitely at a crossroad and none of the road choices feel right. Each week seems to get harder instead of easier. I am often just at the edge of tears and many things pull me over that edge. Songs, tv commercials, greeting cards . . .

I have more than I need compared to others: food, clothing, shelter and a place to sleep, a hot shower, people who care about me, two dogs to bond with, a cell phone to communicate with, a laptop connected to the internet, an upcoming appointment at RI Free Clinic, a job interview at Providence Children's Museum, a possible second interview at EDS, friends to meet for coffee and talks, and more.

I don't have an income, so I'm not independent. This is a horrible feeling. I don't have a insured car anymore. I am using someone else's car. This is a horrible feeling. I don't have anyone to share life with - the heart-based, daily challenge, goals for the future or I need a hug stuff. This is a horrible feeling. Most distressing is that I just can't see beyond this. I don't see anything there. When I turn around and look back all I see is the chaos I created and the wreckage those I loved are trying to clean up.

So. . . where am I now?

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Missing Nemo

I had to take Nemo back to Delaware last Saturday. It was a weekend full of sadness . . . It was the right thing to do. He missed his way of life; his freedom and his cats and his fenced in yard and other people who love him as much as I do. My sister's puppy was annoying him, and they finally had a tiff over a chew toy, and Nemo snapped at him. Since I am essentially a guest in my sister's house, her puppy rules the way of life here. I cried all the way back on Sunday through the blizzards and the rain and the fog - one of the most difficult days so far. I saw my son for about seven minutes as he met me in the driveway of the house to do the Nemo transfer. He had brought out some plastic bins I previously packed and then I was left. I never went inside. I was going to go in to get a photo album but I couldn't do it. I spent dinner and the night with my daughter and was off again the next morning. No one said this was easy. The memories and sadness for what is left behind sometimes overtakes me. Sometimes the past tells me I should go back. That I should not have left. I know I can't go back - I would not be welcome back. It just isn't the right thing to do. It hurts. I know the hurt and sadness will pass. I also know that there is a place in my heart where all of those years will live forever. The wonderful days, the loving times, the memories, the holidays, the work days and the day to day of raising two wonderful kids who have become amazing adults. A day at a time . . . Baby steps forward.